Pedro knelt by his friend holding his hand as the medic tried to stop the flow of blood.
“Hey, man. You’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch.” Pedro’s voice caught in his throat as he spoke, but he refused to let it show.
His friend smiled, the movement sent a river of blood out of the corner of his mouth. A spasm of pain ran through his face before his back arched, then relaxed.
“Damn it!” The medic shook his head. “I’m sorry, he was—“
Pedro nodded. “I know. He wanted to witch positions. I should’ve tripped the mine.”